


The Fixer's Fix

by Butterynutjob



Category: Irish Actor RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, F/M, Flogging, Rough Sex, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6484810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although she is the boss at work, as the owner of her own political consulting firm, in bed Avery wants to be dominated by someone sexy who knows how. How fortunate that her sexy colleague Michael Fassbender, Esq., has a side business as a Dom-for-hire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fixer's Fix

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eves_leaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eves_leaves/gifts).



> Commissioned by eves_leaves. Thank you so much for the compliment, and I hope you enjoy it!

They were finished with their meeting, and Avery had no reason to keep either of the lawyers in her office any longer. She came around her desk to shake their hands. Fortunately Henry left first, and Avery touched Michael on his arm. “Can you stay for a few more minutes?” she asked, raising her gaze to meet his cool blue-green eyes. “I’d like to discuss another matter with you.”

“Of course,” he said, smoothly; professionally. Only the slightest widening of his pupils gave away that he almost certainly knew that what she wanted to discuss was a different type of business completely. 

“I’ll catch up, Henry,” he called as Avery got up to close the door behind their departing colleague. 

Avery turned from the door to face Michael slowly, feeling an uncharacteristic fluttering in her stomach. 

“I thought we had some kind of unspoken agreement not to discuss it,” Michael said, the barest smile on his face. 

Avery licked her lips and smiled back, still considering how to say what she wanted to. They had seen each other at a bondage club a few weeks before. She hadn’t been sure at that time that he had recognized her, considering how much make-up she had been wearing, but she had definitely recognized his distinctive jawline and broad shoulders. 

She hadn’t dared to talk to him that night, but as a political consultant (“fixer,” they whispered as they handed out her card on Capitol Hill) finding out about people was her business, after all. It didn’t take her long to uncover that Michael Fassbender, ESQ, was moonlighting as a professional Dom. 

She licked her lips, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “I want to hire you,” she said clearly, coolly, professionally. “For a session. Possibly more than one.”

He nodded thoughtfully and gazed at her for a moment before he spoke. “I don’t work with virgins or sexually inexperienced people,” he continued. “I prefer my clients know exactly what they want...and you do, don’t you, Ms. White?”

“I do,” she said evenly. 

“Good,” he said. “Do you have a personal email address, separate from your work email?”

“Email? Ah, yes, of course. Averywhite82@gmail.com.”

He took out his phone and tapped a note for himself. “Thank you. I will email you one of my standard consent forms, where you will indicate what you want and rate your interest in different activities.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Well, that makes a lot of sense.”

“I will send you a credit card invoice, which you will pay in advance,” he continued, standing up. “And we will exchange STD results in advance. I prefer not to use condoms, assuming you have birth control.”

Avery preferred not to use condoms, either, and she had thought that might be a sticking point. “I have an IUD,” she said. “So that’s all fine.” 

It was his turn to look surprised, and it occurred to Avery that perhaps _he_ had expected that to be a sticking point. _Maybe it should be,_ Avery thought, but as she gazed at him, she couldn’t bring herself to believe that he would risk her health. She had been working with him sporadically for several years, and she knew him to be conscientious and thorough in his work. 

(She hoped he brought the same attitude to the bedroom.)

For no reason she could have articulated, she trusted him. Her intuition told her he was trustworthy. That was dangerous, exciting, and comforting all at the same time, as she wasn’t usually someone to trust easily. 

He was waiting, she realized belatedly. He was patiently waiting for her mind to catch up...perhaps waiting for her acquiescence. And that was why she trusted him, Avery realized in a flash of insight. Because no matter what he said or did to her, he wanted it to be something she wanted. 

“Perfect,” she said quietly. She held his gaze for a moment, enjoying the way his gaze changed subtly to approval. 

The barest smile materialized on his lips as one corner curved upwards. “Excellent. I look forward to our session, Ms. White.” He inclined his head and left. 

**

True to his word, Michael had emailed Avery STD test results, an invoice, and an incredibly detailed blank questionnaire by the next day. She returned a scan of her own clean test results and easily paid the bill; it was higher than she had expected, but not unreasonably so.

The questionnaire took a little longer to complete. There were things listed on the form that turned her stomach, and things that made her blush— and she was not someone who blushed easily. In fact, she realized that by filling out his form instead of just sending him a list of activities that she wanted during their session, she ended up sending some very different information than she first intended—although it was definitely a positive change. The matter-of-fact language made her feel that even her dirtiest desires weren’t something he was going to judge her for. She was careful and thorough, and by time she decided the list was complete, she couldn’t read it over without getting wet. 

They agreed on a time and date and he emailed her an address. It was a tall building in the financial district, and at the 9pm arrival time they had agreed upon, the building seemed completely vacant. Michael met her downstairs at the building entrance, greeting her with a warm smile as he held the door for her. Her high heels clicked against the black marble floors. 

He was wearing black jeans and a tight black T-shirt. Avery was a little surprised he wasn’t wearing something that looked a little more like fetish attire, but she had stated on the form that it didn’t matter what he wore, afterall. 

She wore a little clingy black dress made out of a spandex-like material and little else, except for the big sweater to go over it and a pair of black heels that seemed appropriate for the occasion (strappy and very high-heeled). She knew she looked good. Avery had no trouble attracting men; she knew she had a decent, and petite, body. She had sworn off relationships because she couldn’t find everything she wanted in one person. _Life is too short to have boring sex,_ she thought. 

Their destination was on the 23rd floor, and from the door it appeared to be a non-descript office suite. It wasn’t until they were inside that Avery saw in surprise that the room was decorated in dark colors, mostly black and gray. He led her into the closest office of the suite, which was a large room whose walls were covered with dark grey soundproofing. The one part of the room that was not covered in soundproofing panels was the window, an area about eight feet wide that featured a floor-to-ceiling view overlooking the lights of the city. 

The room had a four-poster bed, but it was pushed against one wall. There was an open-air shower lined with black tile in one corner (Avery guessed this might be for some of the activities she had elected _not_ to request) and in the center of the room was something that looked like a sawhorse covered with strategically-placed leather pads. 

“Would you like to use the restroom before we begin?” he asked her. 

Avery took a deep breath and exhaled. Her nervousness warred with her arousal, but arousal was winning. “No, I’m fine,” she said. 

“Have you prepared as I requested in the email?” Michael asked. He took her large sweater from her and hung it on a hanger on a chrome rack near the door that was apparently there for that purpose. 

“Yes,” Avery replied. She had given herself the two enemas he’d suggested, knowing it would make her feel more comfortable, ultimately. 

“That’s good to hear.” He gave her an appraising look. “You told me in your email that you don’t have a preference for safewords, so I’d like to suggest we use the standard ‘red,’ for full stop and ‘yellow,’ for pause or slow down. If I ask you for a color, and you don’t need to stop or take a break, please say ‘green’. Will that work for you, Ms. White?”

“Yes,” she said. “but please, call me Avery.”

He smiled, and there was a not-unwelcome hint of predator in it. “I don’t think I’ll be calling you that for long, if I understood your questionnaire correctly.”

“No, I guess not,” she said, licking her lips. Michael’s eyes caught on her tongue for a moment before his gaze flickered back up to her face. 

“Once we begin, I expect you to follow all instructions I give you without question, unless you are safewording,” Michael said. “It may not always be exactly what you expect, since you indicated that you want some spontaneity. I expect you to answer all questions honestly, and failure to do either will result in your being punished. You may call me Michael. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Avery said. 

“Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes, Michael.”

He gazed at her and his facial expression changed, subtly. Avery was good at reading faces—her job relied on it—and she was surprised to realize that rather than assume a dominant aura, it seemed that Michael had actually just dropped the facade of being normal. He looked at her like she was a feast and he was trying to decide what part he wanted to eat first. 

“Take off your dress and any undergarments you are wearing,” he said, adding softly and with a special emphasis, “ _slut._ ”

Avery got gooseflesh and disrobed. She wasn’t actually wearing underwear at all, and peeling the dress off was quick and easy. She glanced at her strappy black pumps uncertainly. 

“Leave your shoes on,” Michael said. “It will remind me that you are a whore—not that I’m likely to forget. Come here. I’m going to tie you to the sawhorse.”

Avery walked to where the odd piece of furniture was. She could feel Michael’s eyes on her breasts and ass as she walked. In her real life, when anyone made her feel so objectified, it angered and disgusted her. But here, with Michael...she craved it. She wanted him to want her, to use her. She didn’t understand that part of herself but she had learned to stop fighting it. 

“Bend over it,” he said. “Spread your legs, too, because that’s all that you’re good for, isn’t it?”

Avery obligingly bent over the sawhorse only to be stopped by Michael’s hand abruptly shooting out and grasping a handful of hair on the back of her head. It didn’t really hurt, but it startled her. 

“I asked you a question, whore,” he snapped, forcing her head to the side so she could see his face. There was a distant glee in his eyes that was as disturbing as it was arousing. 

Avery had to replay the last few minutes in her mind. “Yes—spreading my legs is all I’m good for,” she agreed, feeling her cheeks heat up, embarrassed by the rookie mistake. 

His face melted into a smile. “Good,” he murmured. “Good girl. You want to be good little slut for me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she agreed fervently. 

He let go of her hair and she resumed getting in position over the sawhorse. There was a narrow but padded central part that her sternum rested on, with either breast accessible and hanging on either side. There were grips for her hands like bicycle grips, a few inches above the floor. The heels meant that her ass was at a slightly higher elevation than her chest.

She felt Michael’s hand on the small of her back. “Arch your back,” he ordered her softly. “I want you to present your ass to me.” 

Avery rolled her back slightly to do as he directed, feeling deliciously exposed. He stroked her as one might a prize dog at a dog show, down her back and over her hips. His fingers brushed across the swollen mound of her vagina and lingered briefly. “I didn’t ask you to shave,” he said. 

“I wanted to,” she replied. She liked how it felt, how it made every sensation in that area magnified. Also, she had yet to meet a man who had objected. 

“Hmm,” he said. “You should have brought that up in advance. Something else to punish you for.” He leaned over her and she felt the warmth from the closeness of him, and the breath from his mouth on her back as he stoked each of her breasts and squeezed each nipple firmly once. 

Her pussy started to ache; the familiar and welcome ache of arousal. 

“Don’t move,” her told her, straightening up. “I’m going to get the ropes, so I can tie you up, and properly make you my fucktoy. Does that sound good to you?”

He was already moving across the room, speaking as he walked. But she had learned her lesson about not replying before. “Yes, Michael,” she said, turning her head to watch as much of him as she could. Unfortunately her hair was not tied back and it fell like a curtain across her eyes, obscuring her view. 

“Once I have you tied up, though, I can do anything I want to you,” he said almost conversationally as he approached the sawhorse again. “Even those dirty things you didn’t mark yes on your form. Can’t I?”

“Yes, Michael,” she murmured. He knelt next to her and started wrapping soft ropes around her forearms, securing them to the legs of the sawhorse. She was still holding onto the grips, although it seemed a little superfluous. 

“And why is that?” he asked, in the same conversational tone from before, as he moved to secure her back legs to the sawhorse with the same soft rope. 

“Why?” she repeated, confused. 

Michael didn’t say anything until he had finished tying her second leg to the sawhorse. “Why can I do anything I want to you?”

Avery’s mind was too clouded with arousal to think clearly. “Because you have me tied up?”

Michael chuckled. She felt his breath and his nose on her lower back, tracing lower and over the swell of her ass only to pull away right when she thought he was about to touch the bud of her bottom. “Wrong answer, whore.” A stinging slap landed on her right buttock. 

Avery made a quick yelp of surprise, but bit it back quickly. “I’m sorry, Michael.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said, stroking his hand over where he had just struck her. “Be grateful that I am willing to take the time to punish you. In fact, every time I strike you, I want you to say ‘thank you, Michael’.”

“Thank you, Michael,” Avery said. She could feel her pussy dripping and couldn’t help but wonder when he would start to do something about that, but didn’t dare ask. 

“That’s better,” he murmured. “Oh, look at how wet your little pussy is. You like being spanked and being called a whore, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Avery said, honestly and passionately. 

“Incredible,” Michael said. Avery could hear the smile in his voice. Two fingers idly started stroking her smooth pussy lips. Not in the center, where she was aching for them, but close enough to be maddening. “You are so ready for a cock.” The two fingers slid into the slipperiness, not actually inside her pussy, but frustratingly close. Avery moaned despite herself. 

Abruptly the fingers were withdrawn. “But I’m not ready to give you cock,” he said. “No, you need to earn that. And I have a few punishments to administer first.”

The first strike was from a flogger. Avery gasped into it. She loved floggers; they were just soft enough that a someone could strike with pretty significant force and the pain was still bearable. “Thank you, Michael,” she choked out after almost forgetting that she was supposed to. 

“Good little whore,” Michael said, flogging her again. Avery whimpered and thanked him quietly. 

“Oh no, don’t hold it in,” Michael said. “These walls are soundproofed for a reason. I want to hear everything, slut. Don’t stifle yourself.”

Avery felt self-conscious for the first time since they’d started. She always had sex in apartments; stifling her sounds of arousal was deeply ingrained in her. “I’ll—try,” she said, her voice thick with desire. 

Michael flogged her again and she cried out. It felt almost fake, a little odd, but also freeing. “Thank you,” she said, louder than she needed to. 

“Good girl, Avery, god, you are such a perfect whore,” Michael whispered to her neck. “Keep it up, show me what kinds of sounds a perfect whore makes.” He stood up and struck her again and Avery keened, a high wail, because it felt like her body wanted to. 

“Thank you! Michael!” she gasped after a moment. It was so much to remember, to thank him every time, but she wanted to be a good whore for him; she wanted to be his perfect slut. 

“I made this sawhorse myself,” Michael mused. He reached underneath the object in question, between Avery’s legs. “I put in a few surprises.” 

Avery jumped (to the best of her ability) and yelled when something smacked her right on her vaginal mound. “Uh, thank you?” she said uncertainly after. 

“You can stop thanking me now,” Michael said. “You have shown that you can do that. I think it’s distracting you.”

“What was that?” Avery asked. The angle strike had come from didn’t seem possible for him. 

Michael chuckled. “You don’t ask me questions, fuck toy. You get what information I decided to give you. Your job is to be a noisy fucking whore. Can you handle that?”

“Yes, Michael,” Avery said, closing her eyes. _Noisy fucking whore._ She could do that.

“Since you seem to be forgetting your place, I think it’s time to put something in your ass.” 

Avery couldn’t agree more, until she felt what was going in. It was well-lubed, but pushed inside her it felt big, bigger than she had expected. “It’s too big,” she said. 

Michael slapped her on the ass. “It’s smaller than my cock,” he said. “I bet I know what you want, you greedy whore.” Avery heard the unmistakeable sound of a vibrator being turned on. 

“Yes,” she gasped. The vibrator touched the outside of her slick pussy lips, but just briefly, before it was removed. 

“Unngh, please,” she cried out. The pressure in her ass was still continuing to build, and she knew it would get a little worse before her sphincter finally went around the widest part of the buttplug. 

The vibrator slid against her mound for another moment of bliss before it was pulled away again. “Aaah,” she yelled, her pelvis instinctively pressing in the direction where she thought the vibrator was. 

“One more time, you rutting little bitch, okay?” Michael murmured. Avery didn’t fully comprehend his words in her mindset but the blessed buzzing was back, slipping against her most sensitive spot; it made the pain of her sphincter stretching around and finally going over the hump of the buttplug bearable—and of course it was pulled away as soon as the buttplug had settled into position. 

“No, why,” Avery moaned loudly, nearly out of her mind with arousal. Michael came to her side and cradled her head on his left hand while his right struck her across the cheek. It wasn’t that hard, but it still brought tears to her eyes, and yet also made her even wetter. 

“I know you can’t help being a greedy whore, but I expect better behavior if you want to come tonight.”

Avery took a moment, her eyes closed, her breathing harsh. Her ass was full and she loved the feeling. She didn’t want to disappoint him, yet his words had touched a nerve, something she had deliberately kept off of the questionnaire. “I’m sorry, Michael,” she said after a moment, with slightly slurred words. 

“Color?”

The question permeated Avery’s mind slowly, like light through murky water. “I’m good,” she said when she remembered. “Um, green.”

“Excellent.” She felt his hand stroking her back again, soothing. It felt embarrassingly good, both physically and emotionally. “Do you like being my slut, Avery?”

“Yes,” she said, distantly noticing how thin her voice sounded. 

“You are doing so well,” he said. “I’m going to hurt you some more, though, because I like doing it, and because I can do whatever I like with you.”

The slight Irish accent in his voice, and the words he spoke, made Avery think in that moment that she would happily be his personal whore forever. “Yes, please,” she whispered. 

“Let me show you my wind-up toy,” Michael said, which is the last thing she expected him to say. He moved back to kneel behind her and she heard a clicking sound. She started to yell as her pussy started getting rhythmically slapped by the small paddle attached to the sawhorse—the same one, she realized, that had spanked her pussy before. It was a couple dozen slaps in all, over the minute or so the wind-up paddle took to expel its kinetic energy; they slowed in frequency, but not in intensity. By the last few slaps there were tears on Avery’s cheeks and her throat was hoarse from yelling. 

“How’s your ass?” Michael asked conversationally, gripping the big buttplug and starting to push it in and out of her. 

“Yes,” was all she could say, her mind not knowing how to formulate an answer in the appropriate format. She moaned loudly at the sensation, trying to stay as relaxed as possible while he roughly fucked the buttplug in and out of her ass. 

“What a good whore you are,” Michael said, and the praise was as delicious and as arousing as what he was doing to her physically. “Do you want to come, little whore?”

“Yes,” she gasped. 

Michael turned on the magical buzzing thing and slid it by her clitoris. She moaned loudly and tried to angle her hips to get the buzzing in exactly the right place. Just when she got it there, Michael turned off the buzzing. Avery made a sound that was almost a sob. 

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” he explained, in a quiet, slightly teasing voice, still fucking the huge butt plug in and out of her. “Only the best, dirtiest whores get to orgasm. Is that you?”

“Yes, that’s me, please,” she moaned desperately.

He pulled the butt plug from her ass, then, making her feel both relief and a physical emptiness. 

“Is it really? Would you do whatever I asked?”

She felt the blunt head of his cock, rubbing up and down her swollen and wet pussy. 

“Anything,” she said loudly. 

He pushed the head of his cock into her vagina, and didn’t push further, making her whimper and writhe for more. “Anything? Well. What would a true whore do? Beg me to fuck you in your ass, whore.” A hard slap landed on Avery’s right buttock. 

“Please, fuck me in the ass, I want to be your whore.” Avery was coming up a little, from the fog, and she didn’t want to. “Fuck me, _please,_ Michael, anyway, anyhow…”

She gasped at the sharp smack on her cheek. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk for a week, do you like the sound of that?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. 

She heard the buzzing start up again, and then she felt Michael’s cock pressing inside her ass. Despite being stretched by the toy, his cock felt huge. “How big are you?” She gasped, trying to relax as he slowly slid inside. He paused once to drizzle some lube on her hole and his cock before resuming the slide inside her.

She heard his soft chuckle. “Maybe I will show you later. Maybe you can suck it later, show me what a whore you are. Would you suck my cock after I’ve fucked your ass?”

“Y-yes,” Avery responded, not really sure if she was telling the truth, but not wanting to say no. She remembered that she had written on the form that was something she would consider—but he had told her that for their first session, he only wanted to do things with her that she had given definite yeses too. 

However, she had given a definite yes to verbal humiliation, so perhaps this was part of that?

She could still hear but not feel the buzzing, which was somewhat puzzling, not that she had a lot of room in her mind to be puzzled. Michael’s cock was now fully nestled in her ass; she could feel his balls hanging down slightly. Michael grasped her hips and pulled her back, towards him, inching her backwards. It pulled on her tied arms a little bit, but not uncomfortably so; it fact, it reminded her that she was tied up and at his mercy. 

When her clit landed on the still-buzzing vibrator, she understood what the backing up had been about. “Oh, fuck,” she moaned, low and long. 

Michael held her hips firmly in place, so her clit was directly on the vibrator, then started thrusting in and out of her asshole. He started slow, but quickly picked up speed and after a minute or so, he was fucking her hard and she was yelling so loudly at the stimulation that it was nearly screaming.

“Need to...I have to…” she whimpered, as the sensation became unbearably intense. She tried to writhe so that her clit was off the still-buzzing vibrator, but Michael pressed her hips down more firmly. 

“You need to be my fuck toy,” he grunted. “Come on, Avery, show me what a good whore you can be. What color?”

She thought she couldn’t. She opened her mouth to say ‘yellow’ and her voice betrayed her. “Green.” But it was true; from somewhere she had found a second wind, of sorts. Existence narrowed to her being Michael’s fucktoy; his whore. Whatever he wanted.

He let go of her left hip and stroked his hand over her hanging right breast, squeezing the nipple affectionately, not hard enough to hurt. “Good girl,” he breathed. “I’m thinking about where to come, little slut. But one thing I will promise you...no matter where that is…” he reached up to her face and slid two fingers inside her mouth. “Some of it is going to be in here.” He moved his hands back to her hips and started fucking her with renewed purpose. “But not til after you come,” he grunted.

Uh-oh. A bolt of anxiety shot through Avery. It took her a long time to orgasm, and it never happened on her first time with any new partner. She had wanted the build-up, the stimulation, and then her plan had actually been to go home and masturbate herself to completion after the session. She could fake an orgasm, but she didn’t want to. She always felt like a liar when she did that.

She wondered how to communicate that to Michael and if he would be disappointed. _He doesn’t really care if I come; I’m just a job to him,_ she told herself. The unhappy thought made her feel more distant from her body and she made an uncomfortable noise. 

Michael stopped thrusting. “Color?” he asked. 

Avery hesitated. “I guess yellow,” she said reluctantly. 

Michael pulled out carefully and reached back to turn the vibrator off. It was just as well; her clit was so overstimulated, it was almost numb. He walked away and was back seconds later with a bottle of water and a straw. 

She was surprised and a little touched at his thoughtfulness. She sipped the water gratefully while he stroked her back, not so gently that she felt she was being coddled, but not so roughly that she thought he was trying to hurry her. “Do you want me to untie you?” he asked softly.

She thought about it, but decided she needed to communicate something first. “I’m probably not going to come,” she said. She looked up at his face, perpendicular to hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t put it on the form, but it takes me a long time, and I just…” she shrugged, feeling her cheeks start to heat up. How strange that _this_ embarrassed her, of all of this.

“I don’t have anywhere to be,” he said in a low, flirtatious voice. 

She smiled faintly and turned her gaze down towards the floor. “I just...I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work.”

“Have you ever orgasmed before?”

Avery blinked. “Ever? Of course. It’s just not...it takes a while, and I need exactly the right…”

Avery trailed off. Michael was silent. She finally turned her gaze up to him, questioning. 

“I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed,” he said, and Avery felt her stomach drop. “You expected to leave here without orgasming? You didn’t think that I could do it, so you didn’t even give me the tools to try?”

“Tools?” she asked, confused and a little hurt. 

“What does it take you get you off?”

“Oh, it’s, really, you don’t have to.”

Michael frowned slightly and gazed at her without speaking for a moment. “Are you ready to continue the scene?”

She nodded, not really feeling in the mood to continue, but not wanting to stop, either. She liked his attention; the way he looked her like she was the only person who existed. 

Michael clapped one buttock, not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to startle her. “What does it take to make you come?”

“Uh, wait. I thought we—”

Another slap landed, harder. “What does it take to make you come?” he repeated, his voice louder and more intense. 

Tears started to well in Avery’s eyes. She was torn. She could safeword again, but the thought that he really meant it: that he could make her come and wouldn’t stop until she did, was intoxicating. Was he really that determined?

Pain blossomed on her ass as he slapped her one more time, hard, nearly yelling at her: _”What does it take to make you come, Avery?”_

“Your mouth,” she choked out, as tears fell down her face. She sobbed once and tried to suck it back in. Stupid girl, what was she even crying about? “And pain, but—”

“Good girl,” he said, suddenly her comforter, soothing a hand over her hot ass cheek. “I’m going to untie you now, and we’re moving over to the bed.”

Avery was trying to suck in her sobs. What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn’t a crier. She could take pain, but it wasn’t the pain that made her cry; rather, it was his determination to make her feel good.

Michael untied Avery from the saw horse faster than she would have thought was possible. When she had trouble even standing considering her unsteady legs and high heels, he simply scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed against the wall. 

“My mouth and pain,” he mused, looking down at Avery, gently putting her down on her back. He smoothed a piece of hair out of her eyes, then leaned down to kiss her between her breasts. “I’ll be right back.”

Avery felt more anxious than ever at what was happening, but Michael did return quickly, with some items in his hands. He dropped them on the bed next to her and then leaned down to kiss her, on the mouth. Avery was surprised at that, but he was a really good kisser, and she got lost in it for a moment. 

He pulled away, gazing down at her through half-lidded eyes. “It didn’t say kissing on your form,” he murmured. “I thought I would take a chance.”

“Well, you know I like bad boys,” Avery said, with a smile. Michael’s returning grin was huge and toothy. He kissed her once more on the lips before moving down her body. 

“Cross your arms over your face,” he said, as he moved lower on the bed. Avery began to feel that thrill in her stomach; the twinge of achiness in her vagina that signalled arousal.

“Why?” she asked, nevertheless moving to do it. 

“Because it’s harder to see where I am flogging when I have my mouth buried in your cunt. I don’t want to put your eye out or anything.”

Avery inhaled in surprise at the concept and his word choice. Then she gasped again as she felt his tongue, just the tip, as he traced her vulva. “Open your legs,” he murmured. 

She did open her legs, but they were trembling so badly that it took all her concentration to keep them in the air. 

“Hmm.” Michael moved over her and did something at the far corners of the bed. Her arms were still folded over her face so she couldn’t see clearly, but it became clear when he wrapped something around her ankle that he had been reaching for restraints. He did the same thing to the other ankle until she found that she could relax her muscles—the straps (or the ropes? She hadn’t peeked) were holding her legs open and slightly folded back onto her. 

“Ahh, there we go,” Michael murmured. He leaned down to kiss her on her clit and then followed that with a light spank on the same spot. 

Avery’s body jerked. Michael chuckled. He resumed the barely-there licking he had been doing a moment before, and then she felt the whoosh of a flogger, just before it struck her belly. 

Michael’s unhurried tongue had finally gotten inside her labia majora when she felt the sting of leather straps on her breasts. “Yes,” she gasped loudly. 

Michael licked the exact perfect spot, right on her clitoris, before he backed up and spanked her there twice. Neither strike was particularly hard—he clearly knew how sensitive she was there—but they made her arch her back and twist away, instinctively, to the extent that she could. 

“You are lovely, do you know that?” Michael murmured, alternately stroking and slapping her stretched-out thighs. He leaned back down a moment later and started licking in earnest, clearly a man with plenty of experience and no reservations. 

Avery could feel orgasm inside her, but it was still a ways away. She tried to think what would get her there and was drawing a blank. So she asked for what she was instinctively craving. “Fuck my ass,” she whispered. 

He didn’t hesitate. There must have been lube nearby, because within moments she felt his huge cock nudging its way inside her again. 

There was something about anal sex that made her feel so dirty, and so _full_. She was still stretched enough from before, so she sighed with pleasure as Michael pushed his cock as far inside her as it would go. He started to thrust, not hard and fast like before, but taking the care that each thrust went in deeply before pulling out again for another. 

He rubbed two fingers over her clit while he fucked her ass. It was not what she needed, and she made a noise and shifted impatiently. Then he slapped her clit again, and she moaned, “Yes…”

She couldn’t come from that, could she? Michael started smacking her clit lightly with his fingers, not quite spanks, but harder than taps, and if he went a little faster…

Avery didn’t realize she had moved her arms off her face and had grabbed her legs, with her face screwed up and her mouth open, until she noticed Michael looking at her curiously, like she was a puzzle he was enjoying but hadn’t quite figured out yet. 

“I could eat your pussy and fuck your ass with that buttplug,” he said, eyebrows raising as if it were a question. 

“Uhh. I like your cock there,” Avery said, and he smiled and smacked her pussy again, just hard enough to be perfect. 

“There’s one thing on your form we haven’t gotten to yet,” Michael said. Avery frowned, trying to remember. He grinned and reached down to pull up a lit votive candle from off the floor.

“Wax,” she breathed, suddenly feeling both anxious and fluttery. She loved the idea; she had played with some wax on her own, but had never convinced a partner to play with her. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts,” Michael said, his smile relaxed and lazy. “That’s the point.” He tipped the candle and let a few drops spatter on her stomach. 

She inhaled more from the anticipation. That was tolerable. In fact, that was pretty nice. “That was—that was good,” she said in surprise. 

“Cover your face again, “ Michael ordered, and Avery did, crossing her arms over it like before. Michael continued rocking his cock in and out of her ass, dripping droplets of wax on her as he did so. The places he dripped wax and how biting the sting was was not predictable, and that very unpredictability made the activity almost unbearably exciting. 

He began fucking her a little harder, and the droplets of wax started raining lower on her body, even a few landing on her outer pussy lips. She was scared of the pain, but she started to hope he would drip the wax directly on her clit. She wondered if she could take it. 

The wax stopped for a while and he started paddling her pussy with his hand, above where he was fucking her. Avery started to realize she was close; she was actually close to an orgasm! 

He stopped paddling exactly at the wrong time, though. “No, don’t stop,” she wailed, her stomach clenching as she tried to keep the feeling. 

The next thing she felt was painfully hot liquid being poured directly on her clit. She screamed as she orgasmed through it, grateful that wax cooled quickly because a few seconds after she came she was too sensitive for more stimulation. 

Michael pulled his cock out carefully. Avery was not sure why he taking such care until she realized that the wax had dripped down and onto his cock while it had been sheathed in her ass, and he was trying not to disturb the hardened shell of wax that had ensconced her pubic area. 

“I’ve been pretty nice to you for a while now, little slut,” Michael said, coming around to kneel at next to her. “It’s time to show me what a whore you really are.” He was lazily jerking his cock. 

Avery looked at him with wide eyes. His cock had just been in her ass; did he expect her to suck it?

“Beg me to let you suck my cock,” he said, one eyebrow raised like it was a challenge.

“Please…” Avery swallowed. “Please, let me suck your cock.” She was both thrilled and terrified at the idea that he would. 

“Why?”

“Because...I’m...a whore.”

He slapped her breast, the one closer to him. “And what do whores like?”

“...Anything you want me to like.”

“So if I tell you to suck my filthy cock, because that’s what dirty whores do...?” he prompted, still pumping himself.

“I would,” Avery whispered. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She both did and didn’t want to. She didn’t want to make the decision. 

“Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

Trembling, Avery did, and moments later felt what had to be semen splattering her face and neck. Quite a bit of it got into her mouth, which was still open.

“Close your mouth but don’t swallow,” Avery heard Michael say in a breathless voice. She obeyed, wondering briefly what she looked like, and if Michael liked the way she looked splattered with his come.

Michael moved between her legs again. “You don’t get to swallow until you come again,” he said. 

Avery made a frustrated noise in her throat. Her expected her to orgasm a second time? She felt Michael licking at her wax-covered mound and she writhed. He smacked her on the wax and it cracked. She whimpered. He kept spanking her pussy until most of the wax had cracked off and crumbled away. Then he bent down and sucked her clit into his mouth, and started rhythmically slapping her exposed inner thighs.

She could feel it building inside her and was shocked at how that could be. How could she come again so soon? Her poor abused clit shouldn’t be able to make that happen again, could it? 

She looked down and Michael was sucking on it, hard, harder than she could usually take. The slaps were coming harder now, too, but it was perfect, it was just what she needed….

A rough orgasm wracked her body. Avery nearly choked on the ejaculate still in her mouth when she forgot and tried to cry out, which resulted in a choked kind of gurgling moan. Michael didn’t let up, still sucking hard on her clit, and it was so unbearably intense that she tried to buck him off before she remembered the words. “Yellow,” she gasped. “Please.”

Michael pulled his face up and grinned at her. His lips were swollen, she noticed vaguely. She felt like she was floating while he untied her legs and gently lowered them. He lifted her bodily to move her onto a position on the bed that left a space next to her. 

“When did you get naked?” Avery asked dreamily, as he lay next to her, with his head propped up on his elbow. 

“While you were tied up,” he answered, his voice amused. He gently wiped the remaining semen on her face off with what seemed to be a moist towelette. But even after her face was clean, he kept stroking her, almost petting her, but not in a way that struck her as sexual. It was more...caring. 

“You made me come,” she said a moment later, her eyes barely open. 

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m glad to hear that. I was also prepared to give you the Oscar if you told me you actually _hadn’t_ come.”

She laughed and rolled over so that her nose was in his chest, a few small hairs tickling her. She inhaled. “You smell good,” she said. She was happy and satiated, yes, but the abrupt thought that they would soon be leaving each other’s company made her feel a little sad. 

He put his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. This cuddly, affectionate man was the same one who had been smacking her around and calling her his little slut earlier?

He was perfect. Avery rolled away from him regretfully. _There is as much point in falling for a doctor,_ she thought. _He’s a professional providing a service, that’s all._

“Is something wrong?”

Avery sat on the edge of the bed, faced away from him. “No,” she lied. 

There was a pause. “You don’t have to go yet,” he said softly. 

“I do, actually,” Avery said briskly, finding her personality again. She didn’t need romantic complications in her life. That’s why she paid a professional. 

She stood up and immediately grasped the bedpost, because her legs were unsteady and she was still wearing high heels. “Maybe we can do this again in a couple weeks,” she said nonchalantly. 

“Avery.”

She composed herself and turned to face him. 

He looked...shy? Confused? He frowned at the ground slightly before looking up at her. “I don’t want you to go yet,” he said. “And I don’t think you want to go, either.”

Avery looked at him a moment before sitting down again. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay,” she said gently. “That was...fun. A little too fun.” She gave him a quick smile and started to stand...only to find that Michael had grasped her hand and wasn’t letting go. She lost her balance and landed on her butt on the bed.

“Hey!” Avery tried to frown at Michael, but it was being overtaken by the smile creeping onto her lips. 

Michael pulled her the rest of the way onto her back and kissed her on the lips, sweet and unhurried. When he pulled up after, he looked at her with something akin to wonder. “Avery...that was really fun, and I...I...I’m not ready for you to go. Will you stay longer? I’ll order pizza. There’s a television over there; we could watch a movie?”

Avery gave him a bemused look. “Is this...how you usually work?”

He seemed caught off-guard by the question, and it made him contemplative for a moment. “No,” he said, like it was an admission. 

Avery gazed up at him, wondering if something she had written off as not for her might be possible afterall. “I might want to have sex again if I stick around,” she said carefully. 

The barest smile crossed his lips. “I think I could handle that,” he said. He kissed her again and it was an hour or so before either of them thought about food again.


End file.
